They had spent every moment since arriving in North Carolina watching for that moment. There were three TVs in the house, each tuned to a different news channel, and left on twenty-four hours a day. Plus Tamara and Bobby each had a laptop so they could check the web while keeping an eye on the news. Missing something because they were sleeping wasn’t an issue. Neither of them was sleeping much these days, and for the most part, one or the other was always awake.
So far, though, there had been nothing on the news, except a few follow-up reports on a minor Sage Flu outbreak at a St. Louis-area hospital. That event had actually taken place before Matt called them, and very possibly was the reason he’d put them on alert. Though there had been several deaths, the outbreak seemed to have been contained and was dying out.
“Beer?” Bobby asked as he pushed up from the couch.
“Sure,” she said, not taking her eyes off the screen.
They were watching PCN, their former network, though that seemed like a lifetime ago. With only a couple days left before Christmas, and all the politicians having gone home, most of PCN’s stories were feel-good fluffy pieces — the best gifts for a busy dad, a gingerbread-house competition, and reports from retailers encouraged by the increased spending habits this season.
“Here,” Bobby said, handing her a bottle.
“Thanks.”
That was the way their conversations went these days. One or two words between hours of silence as they stared at the TV in a constant state of anticipation.
On the screen, one of the PCN talking heads was describing the president’s plans for the holidays. Camp David this year with family and a few friends. A turkey and a ham, and candied yams from a recipe passed down through the first lady’s family. As he started to list the desserts, the cell phone sitting on the coffee table rang for the first time since Tamara and Bobby had arrived in North Carolina.
They both jumped, and stared at the phone for a moment before Tamara snatched it up.
She pressed ACCEPT. “Yes?”
“This is one call I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to make,” Matt said.
She let out a groan, and unconsciously moved her free hand over her mouth.
“Go with WC,” he told her.
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“When will it happen?”
“It’s already begun. Put it up. Keep it up. Get the word out. Let’s try to save as many people as we can.”
The line went dead.
“…the accident was reportedly caused by a roll of carpet. Where that carpet came from, police are unsure. The good news is, there were only minor injuries.”
The image of the polished-looking, fortysomething male anchor was replaced by his polished-looking, twentysomething female counterpart.
“Fire department and police officials have received reports of several metal containers spread around the tri-city area that are emitting what some people are calling a hum. A police spokesman says that officers have been dispatched to investigate these reports, but at this point there’s been no further information. Victoria Lawrence is on the scene with one of these boxes right now. Victoria?”
The studio shot cut to Victoria Lawrence standing in the parking lot of the Whittington Mall. About fifty feet behind her was a dark red shipping container, the top of which was open. This was the first such report to make it on the air.
“Cheryl, you can see one of the containers in question behind me.” As she said this, she turned for a quick look at the box, then faced the camera again. “This is only one of a half dozen sightings that have been called in to our station. The police have yet to arrive at this location.”
“Any indication of what might be inside?” the male anchor said.
“No, Paul. We haven’t been able to get a look yet. Mall security has asked everyone to stay away, but you might be able to hear the noise it’s making. It sounds a bit like the propeller of a small plane. As you can also see, several curious onlookers have gathered to see it for themselves.” She turned to a crowd of about a dozen people standing near her, and held a microphone up to the nearest women. “Hi, Victoria Lawrence, Channel Six News. What’s your name?”
“Michelle.”
“Any thoughts on what might be going on here, Michelle?”
“No idea.”
“I know!” a man yelled behind her.
Victoria moved the microphone toward him. “Can I have your name?”
“Charlie Simmons. And if you ask me, I think it’s some sort of PR stunt. Probably some kind of movie promotion. You know, that kind of thing.”
Victoria interviewed a few more people, each offering their take on what might be happening. Finally, she turned back to the camera, her smile clearly indicating this was the kind of story you just had fun with because it would end up being nothing. “Paul? Cheryl? What do you think?”
“I’m with the guy who called it a marketing trick,” Paul said.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Cheryl agreed.
“Well, whatever the case, when we find out, we’ll bring the answer to you,” Paul said to the camera, sure that the story would probably be forgotten by morning. “Coming up after the break, a bear makes a surprise visit to a Walmart parking lot.”
IM CONVERSATION TRANSCRIPT
BETWEEN DOUG MINOR, FREELANCE WRITER, AND
JOSE RAMOS, EDITOR FOR THE BEYOND BLOG NETWORK
2:21 PM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
DOUG MINOR: Jose, you there?
JOSE RAMOS: What’s up?
DM: Want to show you something. This aired just a few minutes ago on a station back east: <link redacted>
JR: Hold on.
<time break—1 minute 23 seconds>
JR: They’re probably right. Some kind of publicity stunt.
DM: I’m not so sure about that. Did a quick check around. There’s some noise online from other places about similar boxes.
JR: A big campaign, then. So what?
DM: Look at this: <link redacted>
DM: And this: <link redacted>
DM: Two other shipping containers. Found in last couple days. First in Australia, and the second in Cleveland. Both exploded.
JR: Okay, a bit creepy. But has anyone proved that they’re connected?
<time break—14 seconds>
JR: Doug?
DM: Holy shit! Turn to PCN.
“…at the moment.”
The speaker was Fredrick Price, PCN’s number one evening anchor. The image being broadcast was shaky and slightly out of focus, and was centered on a long, dark rectangular box sitting at one end of a large lot. There were no people in the shot, but there was movement, low and steady across the ground.
“What you’re seeing is a law enforcement reconnaissance robot being used by the Richmond Police Department in Richmond, Virginia. The container it’s approaching drew suspicion this afternoon when an employee at the nearby grocery store noticed that the top was open and something inside was making noise.”
The image cut to a taped interview with Kyle Jones, the grocery store employee. “It just seemed kind of weird, you know. So I went and got my boss.”
Offscreen, a reporter from the local television station said, “Has it been here long?”
“Yeah. A couple days, I think. But I just thought it belonged to one of the other stores here. It’s not the first time we’ve had one of those in back. But when this one started making noise, I knew something was wrong. My boss and I, we asked around. The other stores didn’t know anything about it.”
“So you called the police?”